


Lines Crossed and No More Passes

by Diary



Category: Scandal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkward Conversations, Bechdel Test Fail, Canon Character of Color, Canon Gay Character, Developing Relationship, Family, Friendship/Love, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Romance, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 02:31:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6734353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diary/pseuds/Diary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. How Michael and Cyrus's fake marriage becomes real. Complete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lines Crossed and No More Passes

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Scandal.

There’s a knock on the door.

“Come in,” he calls. “Another laundry mix up?”

Nodding, Cyrus stumbles to the closet.

Setting his homework down, Michael goes over. “If you refuse to be responsible and not risk getting thrown in a secret Siberian cell for waging biological warfare on the White House, I can’t stop you, but you’re not driving in this condition. Is Ethan coming? Or do you need me to take you?”

“We haven’t used Siberia much for secret prisons in years. Cuba’s more likely,” Cyrus blearily informs him.

“Thank you for that comforting information. You didn’t just tell me something highly classified, did you? Because, divulging state secrets along with the biological warfare, I’m pretty sure someone somewhere still uses the firing squad.”

Giving a scratchy laugh, Cyrus immediately glares. “Don’t make me laugh. It’s just a persistent bug.”

“Me or Ethan?”

“Ethan,” Cyrus answers.

Reaching over, Michael puts his hand on Cyrus’s forehead. “Did you eat any of the oatmeal?”

“Half the bowl,” Cyrus answers. “And thank you. You probably can’t tell, but I’m much less of a zombie than I was earlier.”

“Well, that’s good. I’ll bring you lunch.”

“No, you won’t,” Cyrus responds. “You’re not skipping your class.”

“Yes, I will. Janice is understanding about these sort of things, and Tony can drop off my homework.”

“You’re still working on the homework you should have gotten finished two days ago. I appreciate everything you’ve done, but now’s time to get back to your own life. I’ll be fine, soon. I promise.”

“It’s-”

The doorbell rings.

Sighing, he says, “I’ll get that.”

…

After he gets Ella settled in for the night, he goes to Cyrus’s room and finds Cyrus has crashed on the bed with everything but his shoes still on.

Feeling Cyrus’s forehead, he’s relieved to feel it’s much cooler than it has been.

“Getting better,” Cyrus mumbles.

“Good. Let’s get you undressed, okay?”

Cyrus is completely passive when Michael removes his belt, tie, and socks, but he does make an effort to help get the actual clothes off. Once he’s down to his undershirt, he crawls under the covers. “This is good. I really appreciate this.”

“It’s no problem. Are you sure you don’t want something clean to sleep in?”

“Fine,” Cyrus insists.

He goes to get his textbook, comes back, and arranges himself on the bed. Turning on the TV, he finds some channel featuring an in-depth discussion of some tax bill. Hoping it’ll interest Cyrus without getting him relied up, Michael adjusts the volume.

…

Cyrus’s bug finally completely leaves, and after Michael’s caught up in all his classes, he goes to Cyrus’s bedroom one night. “Up for some fun?”

Nodding, Cyrus sets aside his book.

…

Michael tries to catch his breath.

“Every time, you make it harder and harder to stay quiet,” he finds himself saying.

Even when Cyrus was a client, Cyrus had always put effort into making it good for Michael, but lately, Cyrus has taken it to a new level.

He’s cleaned up, and he feels fingers briefly running through his hair.

Then, Cyrus is getting out of bed.

He tries to stay focused on the afterglow.

“Here,” he hears, and he realises Cyrus has brought him a glass of water.

Grinning, he sits up and moves closer when Cyrus sits down. “Thanks.”

Cyrus carefully moves them so they’re both against the headboard. “I need to go to San Antonio next Friday.”

“Yeah, right. I think I heard something about some mayor’s birthday party?”

Making an affirming noise, Cyrus says, “She saved Fitz’s life, once. I’m going to leave Thursday, and I’ll probably stay until Saturday or Sunday. Will Ella be okay with you, or do I need-”

“You know she will be,” he interrupts. “Uh, if you wanted, I could bring her down Friday afternoon. We could all spend the weekend there.”

“No. There aren’t going to be many children there, and I don’t want you and her to have stay cooped up in a hotel. Secret Service would yell at me if you took her out around town at night.”

“Okay." He briefly considers offering to take her on Saturday. “Don’t worry, we’ll be fine. Try to call me after the party is over.”

Cyrus looks over with a surprised expression.

“I worry,” Michael admits, “when you’re out of town.”

“I always call in the morning,” Cyrus points out. “This party might run late.”

“I’d still like a call. If I’m asleep, I’ll just fall right back after we hang up.”

“I’ll try,” Cyrus offers.

“Thanks.”

…

Cyrus calls at 12:09. “You’re still up?”

“Yep. Finally out of there?”

“Finally,” Cyrus agrees with a disgruntled noise. “As grateful as I am for what she did, why she couldn’t just be sent a nice, ungodly expensive present- She’s one of the most boring people imaginable.”

Michael makes a sympathetic noise.

“How’s Ella?”

Looking over, he sees she’s still fast asleep and wrapped around Cyrus’s American flag pillow. “Good. I let her stay up later than usual. Also, she’s sleeping with me tonight.”

“Good.”

He relaxes.

Cyrus has never been comfortable with Ella sleeping with Cyrus, and she was perceptive enough to realise this. When Michael first moved in, she ended up sleeping with him a few times, and for all the other ways Cyrus was cruel, he really hadn’t been in that instance. He’d warned Michael exactly one time what would happen if she was ever hurt and watched her closely whenever they did, but otherwise, he’d given the impression of being relieved someone was filling a parental role he had trouble filling himself.

Hesitating, he continues, “Also, if she says anything about you not liking how I steal the covers and move around at night, you have no one to blame but yourself.”

“You’ve lost me.”

“She asked why we had different rooms. Since neither of us snore, I admit, I made you into the one who had a problem. Should have been here, Cy.”

Cyrus laughs. “If I only I had been. But otherwise, she’s fine? No deeper questions?”

“No deeper questions.”

“Kiss her goodnight for me.”

“I will. Night, Cyrus.”

“Goodnight, Michael.”

…

On Sunday morning, he feels a kiss being pressed against his forehead.

Opening groggy eyes, he sees Cyrus is undressing.

Sitting up, he notes, “You’re back early.”

“Go back to sleep. Ella’s having cereal and watching cartoons.”

Realising he’s in Cyrus’s bed, he says, “Right.”

When he starts to get up, however, Cyrus gently clasps his shoulder. “If you need to go to the bathroom, go ahead, but otherwise, stay here and go back to sleep.”

Nodding, he curls back up underneath the covers and is halfway back into sleep when he feels Cyrus slip into bed beside him.

Warm happiness infuses him, and he moves closer and falls fully asleep with the smell and feel of Cyrus surrounding him.

…

Later, when they’re both up, Cyrus says, “I’ve decided to redecorate my room.”

“Oh?”

He wants to ask if- he’s always wondered if the bedroom was more James or Cyrus, if it was like this when he and his wife were married, if it was like this when James moved in or if they created together.

“That’s nice. Anything I can do?”

“Feel free to say no, but if you want to go shopping with me, we could take Ella.”

“That’d be great,” he quickly says. “Where and when’s our first stop?”

…

Cyrus had agreed the room should be repainted, too, and so, they’re boxing things up when Cyrus says, “I might need a new bed.”

“We could go looking next weekend.”

“No, I’ll handle it.”

He nods.

“Hey, thank you,” Cyrus says. “For doing all of this.”

“It’s been fun,” he replies.

“You know- ” Cyrus hesitates, and Michael stops boxing up books and looks up. “You’re free to make yours however you want, too.”

“It’s good the way it is. Sure you don’t want to take me bed shopping? Not to brag or uncomfortably bring up certain things, but I have a lot of experience when it comes to them and what kind is best for different people.”

“I know,” Cyrus softly tells him. “Ella’s been doing much better since you helped her pick out her new one.”

Cyrus’s phone rings before Michael can respond.

…

Cyrus had ended up taking him and Ella bed shopping, and until now, he had no idea this could cause trouble.

“Take Ella out, okay,” Cyrus orders. “I’m going to end up yelling.”

Before he can ask, Cyrus has set something down and is striding to his study.

Looking down, he sighs.

Someone wrote a small blurb about Cyrus Beene and his husband going bed shopping. There are some pictures of him and Cyrus, but thankfully, for both the sake of whoever took them and for Cyrus’s blood pressure, there are no shots of Ella.

Seeing Ella is engrossed in her tea party, he hesitates, and then, goes to the study.

Slipping in, he quickly closes the door.

“I don’t care if this is Tom’s day off, he can have a day off when I’m no longer convinced someone in Secret Service isn’t talking to tabloid writers, Ethan! You get him and every other agent who was on duty on March 5 into the briefing room. No, I don’t think he’s responsible, but if he has any idea of who might be, he damn well will tell me! And monitor every other news outlet you can find. If my daughter’s face or name shows up, I don’t care what time it is, you will immediately contact me.”

Hanging up, he jumps when he sees Michael. “Where’s Ella?”

“Tea party with her panda bear and Millie, Samantha, and Logan,” he answers. “I think Logan and Ice Bear are arguing over something.” Reaching over, he stills Cyrus’s hand, pries the phone out of it, and sets it down. “I understand, privacy, but explain to me why this is so bad.”

Cyrus looks at him as if he’s insane.

“Ella’s name or picture wasn’t in there. How is you getting a new bed a threat to national security?”

“Not everything goes back to my job,” Cyrus snaps. “Ella is a black girl with two gay fathers, one of whom she still occasionally cries over missing, and an ex-hooker gay stepfather. This is just what she needs, some classmate finding this in a few years and using it against her.”

Swallowing away the hurt, he quietly says, “Nothing about my former profession was mentioned. And unfortunately, you could be right about her having trouble when she’s older because of us, but in this one instance, you’re projecting your own issues, Cyrus. A recently married couple decided to get a new bed. Frankly, that’s so boring, I’m surprised they’d even bother running it. There’s not even a winking sentence about how we might put it to use.”

For a minute, Cyrus simply stares.

Then, letting out a long breath, he picks the phone back up and dials. “Tom? How is it that I can always find you but Ethan can’t? Never mind. Look, when he manages to do his job and get a hold of you, tell him I said to forget about the briefing room and just focus on monitoring the news outlets. No, there’s no threat. Someone snapped some pictures of Michael and me, and admittedly, I overreacted. No, that’s not necessary, we were in public, and no one approached any of us. I just want to make sure Ella’s face and name is kept completely out of the media.”

He hangs up. “You were right.”

“Imagine that,” Michael comments. “No more putting yourself at risk for another heart attack today?”

“No more,” Cyrus agrees.

…

Cyrus pauses when he sees Michael in the White House. “What are you doing here?”

Feeling a mixture of pity and amusement towards the cringing Ethan who’s been waiting with him, Michael holds up the bag of food he brought. “Hello to you, too. My class was cancelled today. I thought you could give Ethan here a break.”

Giving him an affectionate look, Cyrus nods. “Yeah, that would be great. Ethan, go make yourself useful elsewhere.”

Ethan quickly does.

Shutting the door, Cyrus says, “Thank you.”

“No problem.”

They sit down to eat, and Cyrus asks, “Why was your class cancelled?”

“Janice’s sister-in-law went into labour last night. She sent a text, but I didn’t get it until about two hours ago.”

“I’ve never asked: How are you liking your classes?”

“They’re all good. I hate Professor Liner from Strategy, and he hates me, but the class itself is a breeze.”

“Why the bad blood?”

“He and my parents would get along great.”

“Oh.” Cyrus gives him a sympathetic look.

Shrugging, he says, “It’s fine. I get along well with everyone else. Janice’s class is the best. Some very interesting people in it. You wouldn’t believe some of the stories they have from their after class meet-ups.”

“They meet up after class?”

“Every week. Usually, Sara May manages to get pictures or videos. Gotta say, when Sam’s baby grows up, he ever wants blackmail on his dad, Sam had better pray he never contacts her. For the right price, she’ll happily give him more than enough.”

“Why don’t you ever go out with them?”

“Married man under contract,” Michael reminds him.

 _One free pass, Michael_ , Olivia Pope had said to him. _You did break the contract._ _I think you realise how lucky you were I was able to even get this for you. Decide right now whether you want the three million and possibly more or if you want to take your chances pursuing other options, and stick to your decision. There will never, ever be another chance as far as Cyrus is concerned._

“Next week, go out with them.”

“What?” He looks up from his plate.

“Go out with them,” Cyrus repeats. “You’re allowed to have a life outside of Ella, me, and your classes. Have some fun with your friends, and I’ll watch Ella for the night. I need to spend more time with her, and I’m probably never going to spend as much as I should, but this could be a step in the right direction for all of us.”

“I don’t think you’re getting how wild they can be,” he says.

“Then, come home early if they start to get out of hand. I have a life outside of home and work. Admittedly, it’s not much of one, but it’s there. When Ella gets a little older, even though the thought is frankly terrifying, she’s going to have one outside of home and school, too. She’s already started going to sleepovers.”

He hates the fact his mind automatically goes to, ‘This could be a trap.’

Cyrus is a ruthless person, plain and simple. If Michael ever had any illusions about someone getting to the White House without being willing to sling mud and pounce on any weakness they could find, he quickly lost it when he first moved to Washington. Aside from being ruthless, Cyrus had more-or-less made the house a prison the months before the wedding. Whenever Ella wasn’t around, he either had a cutting comment ready to aim or utterly shunned Michael’s existence. Every time Michael left to go to class, for a run, or even to the grocery store, if Cyrus wasn’t ignoring him, he was making it clear what image Michael needed to project to the public.

He wants to believe Cyrus was being sincere at the wedding. He wants to believe he’s trusted with Ella and Cyrus wants him in her life. He wants to believe Cyrus wants him in Cyrus’s life.

For years, he looked out for himself above anything, and he tries not to feel guilty for this, but some part of him is probably always going to be the kid who wanted to take care of and make others happy. It got him walked all over, called everything from a sissy to even crueller things, and it even got him physically hurt on occasion.

Maybe he’ll never find a husband who’s actually a husband in every sense of the word, but he could take care of Cyrus and Ella. He could make Ella happy, at least, and if not happy, he could, at least, make life pleasanter and easier for Cyrus.

Some part of him is always scared Cyrus will never truly forgive him for what he did and is just waiting until he’s completely dropped his guard to strike.

“Hey.” Cyrus reaches over and touches his arm.

He looks over.

“Have some fun. Me and Ella will be fine until you get home.”

“Okay,” he finds himself agreeing.

…

He has one drink, dances with Tony and Sara May, stops Jesse from going off with a strange woman, and takes a cab home at ten.

He finds Cyrus lying on the couch with Ella asleep on top of him and some rerun of Andy Griffith playing on the TV.

“Have fun,” Cyrus quietly asks.

Nodding, he smiles and comes over to pick Ella up. “Yeah. You were right.”

“Imagine that,” Cyrus responds with a slight smile.

Rolling his eyes and shaking his head, he takes Ella to her room.

After she’s tucked in, he leaves her room, goes to his, and hesitates.

He could crawl in bed, turn his alarm on, and fall asleep.

Or he could go to Cyrus’s room and see if-

Don’t, he tells himself. You always do this.

He’ll get attached to a guy, get used to falling asleep with their smell surrounding him, with their warm body pressed against his, and then, when things end, he’ll go through a literal form of withdraw and have to suffer through it until his sleep patterns finally reset themselves.

He shouldn’t have slept in Cyrus’s bed when Cyrus was in San Antonio, and he shouldn’t have stayed the few times they had sex late at night.

He shouldn’t go to Cyrus’s room, now.

Sighing, he realises he’s standing at the door.

Opening the door, he finds Cyrus sitting in bed and watching some late night show. “Michael?”

“Would it be alright if I slept in here tonight?”

“Of course,” Cyrus answers. He pulls the sheets back.

“Thanks."

Getting into bed, he curls up stomach-down underneath the sheets, adjusts his pillow, and closes his eyes.

He dozes in and out of sleep until he hears the TV turn off and the room is plunged into total darkness save the faint glow of Cyrus’s cell phone. He feels Cyrus getting under the sheets and adjusting himself into position on his back.

Moving closer, he extends his arm so it’s making contact with Cyrus and falls into a restful sleep.

…

The harsh ring of Cyrus’s phone wakes him up along with the lamp turning on and, “Ethan, it’s three in the morning. For the sake of your life, tell me the White House is burning. What?”

Fully awake, Michael sits up.

“I’ll call- What about Ella? Okay, good, thank you. Look, I’ll call you back in a few minutes.”

“What’s going on?”

Cyrus gives him a look that immediately makes his stomach twist in fear. “Michael, what happened tonight? When you went out?”

“Happened? Nothing. I had a drink, danced with the others, and took a cab home.”

Sighing, Cyrus does something on his phone and hands it over.

He knew he should have never gone out.

His ex-profession is mentioned in this one, and even though Tony is married with two stepkids and Michael only had one drink, whoever took the photos managed to make it look like he was drunk or high and the dance much more provocative than it actually was.

 _No freedom, no happily ever after_ , flashes through his head.  

“Cyrus,” he pleads, “I know how this will sound, but I swear: This isn’t what it looks like. I had one drink. You know I wasn’t drunk when I came home, and I’m not afraid to take a drug test. Tony is straight and married. Sara May, I also danced with her, and there was a lot more physical contact between me and her than me and Tony.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he echoes.

Cyrus gets out of bed and turns on the lights.

“Okay? What does that mean?”

“It means, petty or not, I’m going to say: I told you so,” Cyrus answers. He brings his laptop over. “First, it’s bed shopping, and then, it’s your time with your friends. I swear, if they go near Ella’s school- We’ll call Liv in the morning. Sally’s too busy making a big deal out of Fitz holding hands with that Saudi king, as if enough of a big deal wasn’t made when Bush did it, and I don’t think Liz would do this again. It must be someone else. Read this.”

Utterly confused, scared, and hating all these feelings, Michael blinks until his eyes are dry enough to read the screen.

“It’s a very rough draft, but once we get the best approach down, it can start being polished,” Cyrus says.

 _The curiosity towards my family has gone too far. About a month ago, pictures were taken of my husband and I bed shopping. Now, a night out with his friends has been spun into something it’s not. Michael is working very hard to earn his degree while still managing time to help me raise my daughter. His former profession doesn’t make him incapable of love and fidelity, and neither he or I should have to continually defend him against out-of-context photos taken of perfectly innocent situations._  

Setting the laptop aside, he wraps himself around Cyrus. “Thank you,” he murmurs. “Thank you.”

…

Olivia Pope looks at him with accessing eyes. “Michael, don’t make us go through this again. If there’s something else-”

“Liv.” Cyrus yawns. “There isn’t.”

She looks surprised. “You seem sure.”

“I am sure,” Cyrus tells her. “You told me to be nicer to him. I’ve been nicer.”

“Thanks,” Michael sarcastically mutters.

Giving him a look, Cyrus says, “If you’d let me get some more sleep, last night-” Shaking his head, he says to Olivia, “Under normal circumstances, Michael’s very honest.”

“Then, you’ll let me talk to him alone.”

“Olivia, we’re wasting time that could be spent fixing-”

Reaching over, Michael squeezes Cyrus’s hand. “I’ll talk to her.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Once Cyrus has gone in search of coffee, Michael sighs. “One free pass. I didn’t break the contract. Cyrus insisted I go out after class. Tony is married. He’s got a twelve-year-old stepdaughter and a three-year-old stepson. His wife, Stella, always sends him to class with coconut bars. They taste horrible, but he loves them. I also danced with another classmate, Sara May.”

“Fine,” she says. “This really was an innocent moment taken out-of-context. You’re allowed to have life. Just tell me what parts we really do need to focus on keeping under wraps.”

Aware he really should have let them both get some more sleep, Michael can’t stop his exasperated groan. “I have a life. Until recently, my fiancé hated me, and now, my husband and I have separate bedrooms, and I have absolutely no legal rights whatsoever to Ella, but I have a life.”

“Every morning, I get up, make breakfast, try to get Cyrus to sit down and eat it at the table instead of grabbing parts of it to take to the office, drop Ella off at school, go for a run, work on my homework and study, and make sure there isn’t anything Ella’s going to need before I go pick her up. Once she’s home, I take care of her until bedtime. In between all of this, if I can get Ethan, who I can tell, despite his politeness, still hates me, to give me an idea of what’s on Cyrus’s plate, I bring him lunch sometimes. I go to classes.”

“All of that is my life. I’m not screwing anyone else. I’m not taking drugs. I’m keeping up my public appearance obligations. No, I didn’t go with him to San Antonio, because, he was concerned about Ella and wanted her to stay here and for me to take care of her.”

She’s quiet for a long moment. “Then, you won’t have any objections to taking a drug test.”

“No, I don’t have any objections,” he says. “I’m clean.”

…

After he’s done, she suddenly says, “Anyone else. You said, ‘I’m not screwing anyone else.’”

Tiredly, he responds, “Yeah?”

“What exactly does that mean?”

Giving her an incredulous look, he asks, “Really?" He shakes his head. "God, you and Cyrus both- No honeymoon. I spent almost three months with my hand. Finally- I really don’t think a married couple, even one that’s married to sell a story instead of being a real couple, having sex with one another is something you need to worry about covering up. We keep it inside and, if Ella’s around, quiet.”

“I’m genuinely trying to understand you, Michael,” she softly tells him. “You and Philip-”

“That didn’t turn out so great, but I refuse to feel bad for it.” Rubbing his eyes, he looks over at her. “I’m sorry about your kidnapping, Ms Pope. Whatever you suffered, I don’t take it lightly.”

“So, please, understand, that these words are excluding anything that might have happened to you during it: You’ve never been hungry. You’ve never been beat up. You’ve never suffered emotional abuse.”

“I have a G.E.D. instead of a diploma. I’ve slept outside, not by choice. I’ve been in shelters. I tried minimum wage jobs. Even without classes- it wasn’t enough. So, like Scarlett O’Hara, I decided I’d do whatever I had to in order to take care of myself until I could find someone else to take care of me.”

“If Cyrus had given me one kind word on occasion, if it wasn’t either ignoring me or cutting me down, I would have taken our fake engagement more seriously. Philip and I didn’t have the connection I thought we had, but he did genuinely like me. He wanted me. And sex was the healthiest way I had to get away from all the pain for just a little while. Sex and talking to someone who was sincerely interested in what I had to say.”

“I’m sorry Cyrus hurt you so much. I honestly didn’t realise it.”

“Look, I help set him up to be blackmailed, and then, when that blew up in my face, I signed up for a fake marriage. If someone did that to my friend, I couldn’t be as civil as you have been. But I didn’t break the contract, and I shouldn’t be punished for that article and those pictures.”

“You won’t be,” she promises. “I’m going to fix this.”

…

They get home, and he starts to head for his bathroom.

“Where are you going?”

“To shower,” he answers.

“No.” Cyrus starts to tug at him.

Confused, he repeats, “No?”

A gentle push has him on Cyrus’s bed. “Get some sleep, Michael. I’ll have Ella picked up after school, and we can deal with you missing class today later. Here.”

He sits in a confused stupor while Cyrus gets him stripped down to his boxer-briefs.

“Cy?”

“No arguments,” Cyrus orders.

He finds himself covered up and blearily watches Cyrus getting ready. At one point, he gets up to use Cyrus’s bathroom, but after, he quietly lets Cyrus put him back in bed and finds himself slipping into sleep. 

…

After Ella’s in bed, he says, “Thanks for not blowing up. And for including me.”

“Of course.” Cyrus glances over from the report he’s working on. “This involves both of us. I told you, we’d be there for each other.”

“If you’re curious, I’m not seeing anyone.”

“I don’t care whether you are or aren’t.”

“Yeah,” he quietly says. Louder, he asks, “Uh, if I were, though, would you have been as okay?”

“Probably not,” Cyrus answers. He sets the report down. “If we ever have to, we can admit this is an open marriage. I’d rather not. I just- don’t want anyone to know my husband is sleeping with someone else. If I found someone, I wouldn’t want people to know I was sleeping with someone besides my husband.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think how dancing with them-”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. You have a right to dance with friends and not have your character called into question for it.”

“Yeah, but be honest: If this were real, if this had been James or Janet, even if you believed there was no cheating, would you have really been okay with it?”

“I would have tried to be. Admittedly, it would have been harder. I’m- politically, I’m all over the place, but personally, I am largely a conservative. I couldn’t say anything about the subject of marriage equality for a long time, and I know I’m lacking in some ways as a father-”

“You’re not-”

“We both know I am. But despite this, I do truly believe family values are important. In Janet’s case, I was tempted, and one time, one time, I almost crossed the line. But I didn’t. For all the other ways I hurt James, I was never even tempted to stray sexually. I would have been insecure about it, but hopefully, I’d look at like, I know them, and I know that, if they say it’s just fun, that they don’t want more from anyone else, that them doing it has nothing to do with a lack of satisfaction from me, then, I need to trust them so that I don’t lose them.”

Curling up against Cyrus, he asks, “What stopped you wrong crossing the line?”

Cyrus lets out a small laugh. “I’d like to say it was remembering how much I love her, which I have always loved Janet, or even that I was afraid it'd come out. I suppose some part of me was afraid, another closeted married man caught cheating. Except- my love or my fear isn’t what kept running through my head. It was, for some reason, people claiming to work late and screwing their mistress or boyfriend has always deeply offended me for reasons I don’t fully understand. The number of nights I’ve worked late-”

Sighing, he runs his fingers across Michael’s arm.

Michael wiggles closer to him.

“He was openly gay. I won’t tell you his name, because he has a wonderful husband, now, and what almost happened isn’t something I have the right to go around telling people.”

“I understand,” Michael says.

“So, he was openly gay and working for the Grant administration. I don’t know how, but somehow, he just knew. He was good at his job, too, and we worked late together. One night, he kissed me, and then, he offered more. It- I hadn’t been kissed much before I married Janet. But I was working late, and as much as I wanted to, I kept thinking, ‘If I do this, what kind of pathetic person does it make me?’”

“Hm. I think I understand."

“I’m not sure you ever really could,” Cyrus says. “That isn’t an insult,” he quickly adds. “What I said this morning, it’s true. By your nature, you’re a very open person. Even when it didn’t serve you at all, how many years did you cling to it? And once you finally could again, how long did it take you to go back to it? I can’t completely understand that, but I do admire it. Envy it, sometimes. I’ve got where I am by always hiding parts of myself and going after the parts other people tried to hide of themselves. Eventually, that more the gunshot is what robbed James of his too-short life.”

Shaking his head, Michael sits up, gently kisses Cyrus, and wraps his arms around him.

Cyrus slumps into the embrace, and they just sit there until their breathing is synchronised and they’re both almost falling asleep.

…

The photos blow over, the gang still wants him to come out with them after class, and Cyrus is low enough to involve Ella in ordering him to accept their invitation.

…

Giving him a look, Cyrus holds his hand out for his tie. “I’m sorry, but I really am not that young anymore.”

Handing the tie over, Michael asks, “This is about payback, isn’t it?”

“Payback?”

“Remember when Jerry Grant had that big scandal with his girlfriend? Before you had to rush off to deal with it, you told me how I was ruining you. You couldn’t think about anything but me and what we did. After what you did last night, how am I supposed to concentrate on my civics exam?”

Laughing slightly, Cyrus asks, “And going another round now would make it better?”

“It might take the edge off.”

Shaking his head, Cyrus gives him a quick kiss. “Tell you what: Get your A, and on Saturday, when Ella’s spending the day at her friend’s and having the sleepover, whatever you want, that’ll be your reward.”

“Just so you know, if I get that A, and you don’t follow through, I’m calling Olivia Pope on you. You can’t promise me things and not deliver, Cyrus.”

“Try the Secret Service,” Cyrus suggests. “They have guns, and everyone on Fitz’s detail but one is looking for an excuse. They’re all mad that I banned junk food from the kitchens.”

“That isn’t going to get your staff to let me bring you different, less healthy food into the White House.”

“It might. And besides, if I have to suffer, everyone else will, too.”

…

Even aside from his old job, Michael used to be a pro at figuring out how to leave men breathless and satisfied but wanting more.

Cyrus has gotten good at leaving him this way, and while he’s not complaining, he finds himself needing assurance he still has the ability.

He gets his A, and on Saturday, he discovers he still does.

Trailing fingers down Michael’s arm, Cyrus takes another steadying breath and looks up. “This was supposed to be about you.”

“It was,” he answers. “Coffee? Gotta keep your strength up. I’ll give you time to recover, but I have all day and night.”

“I don’t think that was part of the agreement,” Cyrus protests with a small smile.

“It was. Maybe you should have been clearer, but you told me, ‘whatever you want, that’ll be your reward.’”

“Coffee would be good. You know, you could just ask for a new car or something.”

“Oh, but this is so much more satisfying,” he responds.

Once he brings the coffee, however, he turns on the TV and curls up against Cyrus. 

Some after school special about virginity loss is on, and Michael happily surrenders the remote so Cyrus can find something better.

“I was fifteen,” he says. “When I lost my virginity. I used to hate that phrase, you know. Where I got this idea growing up in a Bible belt town, who knows, but I always thought, ‘Having sex doesn’t mean you lose something.’ Okay, so, you’re not a virgin, anymore, but it’s not like you accidentally set it down somewhere and can’t remember where. Ideally, it’s something you happily choose to stop being.”

Softly but, thankfully, with little pity, Cyrus asks, “What happened?”

“Cute boy in my science class paid attention to me. It hurt, we were stupid and unsafe, and after the regret hit on his end, life became even more unbearable for me. But the worse thing is, I thought the hurt was just part of it, I never worried about the fact we weren’t safe until I got a little older and realised exactly how lucky we both were that the stupid risk we took with our health didn’t have terrible consequences, and I thought it was the best thing that ever happened. In love, finally a man, every cliché you can think of, I bought it hook, line, and sinker.”

Cyrus kisses his head. “Mine wasn’t that bad. I had a high school sweetheart. We were going to wait until we got married. Instead, we waited until the night of our high school graduation. She was very kind, I don’t know how it is I always manage to attract such kind people, but after it was over- she knew. She never did more than hint at it, but she knew. We broke up when I went off to Harvard.”

“Anyone besides her and your ex-wife?”

“Once,” Cyrus answers. “Before I met Janet, I went to a bar once, got into an interesting discussion with a woman there, and went to her place. That night, I finally let myself accept what I wanted to believe wasn’t true. I didn’t stay until morning.”

They settle in to watch a home decorating show. Cyrus’s room is almost redone, but all three of them agree there’s still something missing.

…

After lunch, they go for round two, and he finds himself dazed when it’s over.

He’s had slow, soft sex before, but it never left him- undeniably, he feels good, but he’s a little scared of how _raw_ he feels.

Going by the expression on Cyrus’s face, he’s feeling something similar.

Tugging on Cyrus’s ear, he says, “Hey. Has it ever been like this with you? It hasn’t with me.”

Surprise flickers across Cyrus’s face, and he studies Michael for a long moment. Then, his face settles into something Michael can’t interpret. “Yes,” he softly answers, “it’s been like this before for me.”

Kissing him, Michael asks, “Wanna share?”

Shaking his head, Cyrus takes a breath and looks away.

Hurt starts to creep in, but pushing it away, Michael sets his hand on Cyrus’s chest. “If I did something wrong, tell me. If not- this is new. Wonderful, but new. Help me out here. Tell me where you are.”

Sighing, Cyrus looks back at him. “I try not to think of it, but comparing this to that night- The last time before the photos went out.”

“Oh,” he says.

He remembers bending over, being quiet, and being confused and vaguely scared by Cyrus’s abrupt change in attitude.

He hasn’t thought of it since it happened, but the fact Cyrus has been- he should have known.

“I’m sorry,” he says. Seeing Cyrus is about to respond, he continues, “I wish I’d known you’d still be beating yourself up over that. Cyrus, I get that sex, even causal sex, is something you think should be fun and safe for everyone. You know have no idea how much that endeared me to you in the beginning. We’re both completely on the same page when it comes to that.”

“And no, that wasn’t, but it was only one time. And you might have wanted to, in that moment, but you didn’t hurt me.”

“That’s a lie,” Cyrus says with no anger or accusation.

“Not really. I was confused, and I won’t say it felt great, but physically and emotionally, I’ve had much worse.”

Realising this likely isn’t comforting, he offers, “Sometimes, a person can cross a line and cross back over. You were trying any way you could to gain back some control. After that, you never touched me again until you knew that you wouldn’t do something like that again.”

In fact, them starting to have sex again had been due to Michael making the first move, countering all the reasons Cyrus had for why they shouldn’t, and backing off to give Cyrus enough time and space to decide whether he wanted to take Michael up on the offer.

Rolling onto his back, he kicks the covers away and pulls a resistant Cyrus into a sitting position. “Here,” he says. Wrapping one of Cyrus’s hands around his wrist, he puts the other over his heart. “Look at me.”

Cyrus looks over him before looking back at his face.

Holding his eyes, Michael says, “I’m fine, Cy. Still whole. Very happy right now.”

Nodding, Cyrus lets out a breath and leans down to kiss him.

…

A week later, he kisses Cyrus in bed and makes a noise of protest when Cyrus pulls away.

“No.”

Sighing, he shrugs. “Maybe in the morning, then.”

“Michael.”

The tone puts him on edge, and he sits fully up.

“You’re welcome to sleep in here anytime you want, but we’re not doing that anymore.”

All he can manage is, “Why?”

“Because,” Cyrus says with pain clear in his expression, “this isn’t real.”

“Oh. It-”

“Don’t,” Cyrus says. “I can’t take back what I did to Janet or James, but when it comes to you, I can still uncross the line. This hurts you right now. I can’t help that. Someday, you might finally find your Prince Charming. I hope you do. And fully aware of how patronising and presumptuous this might sound, but when you do, you might look back and thank me for this.”

Getting up, Michael leaves.

…

Olivia Pope finds him sleeping with his head down on the conference table at 2:14.

“Michael?”

He feels a hand shaking his shoulder.

Groaning at the crick in his neck, he checks his face for drool and looks up at her. “I want it to be real. Can you make that happen?”

“Michael, I don’t know what you’re talking about. What are you doing here? Does Cyrus know you’re here?”

On cue, his phone rings, again.

Hitting ignore, he answers, “No. I left him,” he checks his watch, “about four hours ago. Didn’t even tell him I was leaving the house or where I was going, which, I’m aware he’s no doubt pissed about. We agreed no leaving the house after seven without telling the other we were and where we were going. But you know, nothing like that was actually in the contract, so.” He shrugs.

“Michael, are you drunk or otherwise intoxicated?”

“No, I’m tired, my neck hurts, and I just want to know if you can make it real.”

Shaking her head and giving him a look, she takes his phone and orders, “Stay.” Followed by, “Eight calls, four voicemails? Really?”

He shrugs.

She does something and brings the phone up to her ear. “No, it’s me. First, Michael is safe. He’s been sleeping in my conference room. Second, why has Michael been sleeping in my conference room, Cyrus? Yes, I could ask him, but he’s half-asleep and very unhappy about something. You sound just as unhappy but also completely awake. Tell me who did what, Cy, so that I know who I should be focusing on.”

She starts to wander away. “Uh-huh. I can see why that…”

…

Olivia sets a cup of coffee in front of him.

“Thank you,” he tells her.

“Cyrus wants to talk to you. I haven’t been able to get much out of him.”

“Is making the marriage real an option?”

She gives him a surprised, curious look. “If it were, I don’t see what I could do. Legally, it is real. Making it into a relationship instead of two people in a contract, that would be a private matter between you and him.”

“But you could have the contract broken, couldn’t you? Or renegotiated? I give up the million and any right to future money in exchange for not having to pay a penalty. The non-disclosure agreement stays. Maybe I could get some form of guardianship over Ella.”

“Is she what this is about?”

“No,” he answers. “Things have changed. I want Cyrus for real. And he wants me, too, but he’s going to hide behind James and his ex-wife if I don’t do something drastic.”

“You’ve never lost someone important, have you,” she asks.

Sighing, he shakes his head. “I’m sorry for what happened to James. That’s a terrible thing to happen to anyone, and from everything I’ve heard, he was a good man. I’ll always be grateful for the fact Ella had him in her life.”

“But what I said stands. He hurt Janet, he and James were having a lot of problems before the carjacking, and if it were that he can’t trust or forgive me, if it were that he could never want me the same way he did before, fine. I would have brought that on myself. I was a little kid when he decided to marry a woman despite being gay. I had absolutely nothing to do with anything involving him and James until James was already dead.”

“That’s true,” she tells him. “In a little over two years, the contract will be up for review. You could cleanly break it yourself or try to renegotiate it, then.”

“That’s almost three years without sex and no guarantee he won’t go elsewhere.”

“You’re allowed to-”

“Probably not with him.” At her look, he says, “Since the wedding, I haven’t been with anyone but Cyrus. I told you, if I hadn’t been living with Satan, I wouldn’t have been with Philip. You could put a fidelity clause in the contract, too, couldn’t you?”

“For both of you?”

“Of course,” he answers. “Look, if I fell for someone who just wasn’t up for sex, I’d try to deal. As it is, this isn’t about him not wanting it. I shouldn’t have to wait almost three years to get a chance at touching my husband while he has the option of touching someone else.”

“Okay. I could draw up a modified version of the contract. However, if Cyrus refuses, I can’t make him sign it. Moreover- This is something you should think long and hard about, Michael.”

“You’re right, putting aside the objectively short time I was kidnapped, I’ve never been hungry, cold, or forced to have sex for survival. I’ve never had to deal with a dehumanising job that didn’t pay enough for me to live on. Whatever you decide, I’ll try to make sure you never have to go back to any of that, but really think about what you could be giving up. There’s always a chance you and Cyrus won’t manage to work.”

“Right now, you not only have a guaranteed three million, Cyrus does care about you. He’s been treating you right, hasn’t he?”

He nods.

“My relationships have never lasted long,” he says. “I have a tendency to attract jerks. There were times I’d try so hard to make sure a guy was genuinely nice before getting involved, and- my instincts when it came to customers never worked quite as well when it came to boyfriends. If I’d been seeing someone serious when the photos went out, I wouldn’t have agreed to the marriage. I’m painfully aware this could be another stupid decision I make because I decided to hope for better instead of accept reality.”

“I guess,” he confides, “that would be fair in a twisted way. There was a time I never would have helped blackmail a client. Aside from it being wrong, I was convinced, if I could just keep hanging in there, I’d manage to get everything I wanted and needed without hurting anyone but myself. By the time Liz found me, I’d given up hope.”

“Well, I’ve found it again. If you can get Cyrus to give this a chance, I’m willing to take one, too.”

…

“Ella’s at school. She came close to crying, by the way, this morning,” Cyrus announces.

Worry and shame floods him. “Cyrus, I’m-”

“We all agree Michael should have, at least, called you once he’d left,” Olivia interjects. “I think we can also all agree that, if he’d said anything while still there, there was a possibility of yelling. None of us want Ella exposed to that.”

Throwing up his hands, Cyrus sits down. “I’m missing work.”

Michael isn’t even sure what he was going to say, but before he can do more than slightly open his mouth, Olivia orders, “Be quiet, both of you.”

She sets papers down in front of them. “Both of you read these. Talk about them. Talk, not argue or yell,” she pointedly adds. “I’ll be happy to discuss them with either or both of you, separately or together. Now, right now, Michael, get some sleep in an actual bed and take a shower. Cyrus, get to work before I have Ethan calling me.”

…

Ella’s curled up asleep in the middle of Cyrus’s bed.

Over in the chairs near the closet, he and Cyrus sit.

“Alright,” Cyrus says. “Full honesty from both of us. I do know you much better, now, but why did you agree to the marriage? You really did have other options.”

“Not good ones,” he answers. “Everyone knows what I used to do. I can’t stop that. It’ll be in my obituary. But marrying you, I could give myself something a little better. The guaranteed three million, I won’t deny that helped, but it really wasn’t the main reason.” 

“Respectable, married man with a checkered past. I will find a job after I graduate, Cy. That was always the plan, before and after you both. Short of becoming one of those people who found religion and cut down the immoral lifestyle they used to live, I was always going to be sleazy, opportunistic, sex worker Michael Ambruso. Even if I never actually had sex for money again, profiting off what I’d done by writing a book or anything like that- But if I fell in love- Got married. Had a husband who everyone thought loved me and wanted me despite all the things I’d done.”

“Right,” Cyrus sighs. “You don’t know some of the really bad ways I went after James.”

“And if we’re being completely honest, I don’t want to, either,” he says. At Cyrus’s surprised look, he continues, “I get the impression that your relationship with him was once really good. Then, it got really bad, but you both still stuck around. It getting that bad doesn’t stop you from loving and missing him so much you just can’t handle it at times.” 

“I’m happy to listen to you talk about him, but I’m not him. Whatever you and I are, it’s not you and him. It really can be this simple: Don’t do any of the bad things you did to him to me.  Don’t do bad things you didn’t do to him to me.”

“Too late for that,” Cyrus comments.

“Yeah, for both of us,” Michael replies. “That doesn’t mean we have to end or can’t start. The middle ground is, you don’t hurt me, anymore, I won’t hurt you, anymore, and we try. Even the best relationships have hurt. Ideally, people are sorry, they stop, they apologise, and they try not to do it again.”

“I’m not worth it.”

Going for broke, he says, “Loving someone doesn’t come down to whether they’re worth it. You either love them or you don’t. And if you do, you tell them. If you don’t, you tell them.”

Standing up, he walks over to the bed and carefully picks Ella up. “I’ll take her to my room tonight.”

…

Cyrus and Olivia watch Michael and the others playing with Ella.

“I keep thinking of James. How he’d feel about all of this.”  

“Hm,” she says. “He wouldn’t like the way you used to treat Michael. He’d wonder how you could have gotten yourself into this situation in the first place. He definitely wouldn’t have liked what Michael did. But I think, in Michael’s case, he’d understand. He’d like Michael. And for all the terrible things you did to him, Cyrus, I do believe he still would want you to be happy.”

Reaching over, she squeezes his hand. “Michael isn’t your redemption, Cy. I’m not sure if either of us will ever get that. He is someone who you could be happy with, who could be happy with you, if you let yourself and him. Shortly before the wedding, I told him he’d used his one free pass. However hard you’ve worked, however many sacrifices you’ve made, however unfair life has been to, you can’t deny you’ve gotten pass after pass in your life, Cyrus. If you sign the contract and hurt him, I won’t be there to help you get another.”

She hesitates. “We both know, in some ways, Michael is stronger than James ever was. That he’s seen you more clearly from the very beginning. That he’s more equipped to deal with what he sees.”

Nodding, he leans over and kisses her cheek.

“Come to a decision,” she asks.

“Yeah.”

…

When it’s time for bed, Cyrus leads Michael to Cyrus’s.

He gets ready, leans against the headboard, and watches TV while Cyrus finishes the last of some report.

“Hey.” Cyrus touches his arm.

He looks over.

“I love you,” Cyrus says.

He feels his breath catch, and before he can get it back, Cyrus is pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“I love you, too,” he manages.

The next kiss is deeper.

…

He and Cyrus both wake up at six in the morning to find Ella darting in and out of the room.

Thankful they didn’t elect to fall asleep naked, he tries to process what he’s seeing: Namely, his clothes are strung all over Cyrus’s room, and the next time Ella reappears, she’s dragging his laptop case with his cell phone charger wrapped around her neck.

At Cyrus’s look, all he can do is shrug and quickly get out of bed to get the charger off her neck.

“Michael, I thought you put the octopus in her aquarium last night. What is she doing?”

“Dada, I’m not an octopus, and I don’t have an aquarium,” Ella huffs.

Looking at him, Cyrus asks, “Didn’t I tell you to get an aquarium last time?”

“Yeah, uh, you did, but sorry, I must have forgotten.” Stifling a laugh, he kneels back down. “What’s going on, Ella?”

“I’m helping you move.”

“Oh. Well, thank you, but I’m not going anywhere right now. Did- you want me to go somewhere?”

Thankfully, the look suggesting she finds herself the only reasonable person in a room full of unreasonable people is directed at him and Cyrus both.

“No,” she patiently says. “Dada doesn’t mind if you move and take the covers, anymore, so, I’m helping bring your stuff in here.”

While he’s trying to formulate a response, Cyrus kneels down. “Thank you, Ella. We appreciate that. But we’re going to handle the rest, okay? You aren’t secretly planning to fill the room with water when we’re done and invite your sea creature friends over, are you? Because you know you can’t have friends over unless I- unless me or Michael talks to their parents.”

“Dada, I am not an octopus. I don’t have sea creature friends.”

“They aren’t making fun of you for only having two arms and legs, are they? Should I call the-”

“I’m going to go watch cartoons,” she announces. “Tell me if you need more help.”

She kisses her hand, presses the hand against Cyrus’s face, and then, does the same with Michael.

Once she’s gone, he says, “For the record, I don’t know how she got such an idea.”

“She’s always been very perceptive,” Cyrus offers. “Ready to make this your room, too?”

Smiling, he nods. “Yeah.”

He and Cyrus share a quick kiss, help each other off the floor, and start rounding up his clothes.


End file.
